


what the sea gave us

by malibu_island



Category: 1917 (Movie 2019)
Genre: Lighthouse, Multi, Previous violence, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:20:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25171522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malibu_island/pseuds/malibu_island
Summary: Thomas Blake was an up and coming detective for the London met.That was, until he uncovered a criminal organisation and helped bring most of the circle to justice.But the leader of the crime ring escaped, putting Blake’s life in danger.He’s moved to a safe house on an isolated island, off the Scottish coast until the ringleader is caught.But the island isn’t as safe as Blake believes and there are things far more dangerous on the island itself than in the treacherous and icy waters of the sea that surrounds it.
Relationships: Tom Blake/William Schofield
Kudos: 12





	what the sea gave us

**Author's Note:**

> the first chapter is short, but trust me, the other chapters will be far longer.

Salt.

It was in everything here. The water, the food.

_ Even the fucking drink. _

William wiped the seawater away from his top lip again, sighing as he scooped up the bucket from the icy waters below him and began to make his way back to his grandfather’s cottage.

It was a horrid, misty day on the island, one that had been his home for some weeks now 

The entire time he’d been here, the waves had been battering away at the slate cliffs something quite terrible.  
  


It often kept him awake at night, the constant crash and roar of the water mere feet from his window.

His grandfather didn’t seem to notice, though.

Old bastard’s lucky enough to be half deaf, William thought to himself as he inspected the contents of the bucket.

A single, solitary crab sat at the bottom of the steel tin, it’s hard shell ugly and grey.

It would probably stink to cook later on.

The old man insisted he had to have fresh fish for supper and demanded his grandson caught them for him, in exchange for boarding in his home.

There were other things that Grandpa Schofield had provided for him, though they went without mention.

William figured if the price of freedom was the taste of seawater sprayed across his face everyday, he would pay it with his bare hands burning from the cold waters.

After he had set aside the bucket, he began to recoil the net in the hopes some fish had swam into it.

It was his grandfathers’s lucky day. Not one, but two fish had lodged themselves into the net and wriggled as they were exposed to the air.

William wrenched them free and threw them into the bucket, somewhat relieved he would not have to face porridge for his own supper again.

The supplies boat had been delayed for some weeks now, thanks to the stormy weather.  
  


It meant the local shops were low on all of it’s stock, not that his wages from the island’s tiny library extended to steak or pork anyway.

Daydreaming of a rare, tender steak he began his trek back up the kelp covered steps.

As he carried the bucket between his fingers, William began to recall the chores in his head that would need to done before he could go to sleep.

As he was thinking, a voice called to him from a fair distance away.

It sounded frantic, worried.

William looked around for the source of the noise, wondering if someone had fallen into the water off a nearby boat.

But to his horror, he found only a huge wave approaching him with terrific speed.

The water towered over him, it’s height quite frightening.

Before he could jump out of the way, the wave crashed over him and dragged him down the steps and into the sea.

The water was so cold, it stole William’s breath from him.

He desperately tried to kick towards the surface, but the currents near his grandfather’s makeshift dock were far too strong.

The choppy waters dragged him further down into the icy depths, until he felt something grab hold of his arm tight and _yanked_ him up.

Whatever the damn thing was, it nearly dislocated his shoulder, such was the force he was dragged upwards by.

Before he could even try to pull away from the pain, his face was breaking the surface and he was sucking in air in deep pulls.

The voice who had shouted to him had been closer than he’d thought.

William realised now, as he was pulled up and onto the shore that the stranger had been trying to warn him of the incoming wave.

He also must have been the one to drag him upwards and out of the water to safety.

For a few seconds, William coughed up seawater, feeling it burn his lungs.

And then he turned his face upwards and into the face of the stranger who had just saved his life.

_No._

_Impossible_.

_Thomas Blake_ , the young detective who had dismantled his crime ring and locked up every single one of his friends, stared back at him; his face a mixture of concern and confusion.

William thanked all of the sea gods that he knew that he  had been able to escape before Thomas had seen his face on that fateful night.

“Shit, mate. You alright?” Thomas’s voice was softer than he remembered, although last time he _had_ been shouting at his friends to “Put your fucking hands up.” 

“I’m fine.” William spluttered out and scrambled to get upright, only to lose his balance on the wet stones.

Tom instantly reached out and steadied him, so that they were both half kneeling and facing one another. 

“Woah! Easy there, you could have just drowned. Don’t rush to get up.” Thomas admonished and let go of William’s arm after he saw the other wince.

  
His shoulder was beginning to burn from where Thomas had almost wrenched it from his socket and he nodded, quietly.

”What’s your name?” Thomas enquired and William’s gaze snapped up from where he had been trying to catch his breath.

“I’m William.” He said simply.

  
William saw no point in lying to the other, since Thomas had only ever known his alias name.

His circle had only ever known him as Bill, so there was no worry they could have ratted him out in a plea bargain, either.

“Thomas.” The other man said, extending a hand. 

  
William grasper Thomas’s hand with his uninjured arm and slowly stood up.

Thomas managed to get him back up the stairs, although it was a tremendous effort for the younger man.

Satisfied that William was safe from danger, Thomas left him at the entrance to his grandfathers cottage. He seemed shy and made his excuses quickly before disappearing back over the stony path and over the hill.

William silently watched him go before he opened the door.

Somhow, he figured the old man wouldn’t be bothered by the fact he wouldn’t be getting fish for dinner.

If he explained that he’d nearly drowned.

The bucket had been knocked over with the wave; it’s inhabitants rejoining the ocean waters.

“Well son,” William’s grandfather called from his chair beside the hearth, “Did you get me fish?”


End file.
